


Joie de Vivre

by MintySkulls



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, Grim reaper au, I'm a sucker for domestic AUs and also for monster AUs, M/M, PTSD, Suicide Attempt, and some will be graphic., contains various forms of death and discussion of said types of this, so have a combination of those, this includes murder suicide accidental etc.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintySkulls/pseuds/MintySkulls
Summary: The dead aren't supposed to mingle with the world of the living. Or, at least, that's what the living people think.Please read the warnings and tags before reading. I, nor anyone but yourself, am not responsible for your mental and emotional health, you are.EDIT: This fic will be re-written with a few things tweaked and whatnot. The new version will be posted separately from this and by then this one will be deleted.





	1. Little House at the End of the Road

           The cul-de-sac with the little cottages-turned-houses was devoid of traffic at this hour; everyone was either already at work or school. At the right side of the dead end was a house with white siding, a black roof, and a porch just big enough to stand on and to set a small bench on. The dry breeze made the sea shell windchime clink idly, and that was the only sound aside from the distant cicadas humming in the woods behind the small suburban street.

           Roxas stepped along the concrete stepping-stones protruding slightly from the gravel, up the three steps, onto the porch, and in front of the door. He welcomed what little shade the awning offered him, since being out in pure black clothes on a cloudless May day wasn’t exactly enjoyable. He peered in through the small window to the right of the door, struggling to see past the screen that close and with so much sunlight behind him. From what he _could_ see, there were no lights on, but a ceiling fan was and so was the TV.

           He rapped lightly at the metal screen door and noted a cat lifting its head at the sound. There was a pause and he poised his fist to knock again, but a groggy voice grunted, “Yeah, hold on.”

           A lanky figure rose from his place on the couch and stretched, a few pops and cracks barely audible from where Roxas stood. He stepped back to avoid the door opening as the man inside got closer, then froze in place. Dressed in a t-shirt Roxas recognized from the end of college junior year, some sweatpants a little too big for his thin waist, and hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail, there he was. Magnificent. He then resumed stepping forward, but in an unsure and uneasy manner.

           “You?” He asked more to himself, “But how in the fuck did--?”

           “Axel,”

           “What the fuck, man? What the fuck?”

           “I know. Can you open the door?”

           Axel fumbled with the screen door’s lock while muttering to himself in confusion. After a few awkward seconds, he managed to get it open and Roxas stepped in and slipped his sneakers off on the designated mat to the left of the door by the closet. It didn’t look like a lot changed.

           “Uh, let’s sit down before you pass out on the floor or something.” Roxas suggested while shuffling to the couch.

           Axel hesitantly followed him on shaking legs. “Roxas, how are you _here_? You’re _dead_. Three years ago, you got shot up three years ago.”

           “That did kind of happen.”

           “So, how are you here?” Axel asked while sitting back down.

           “Well, uh, that’s a long story. I didn’t really stay dead… sort of.”

           “But you didn’t come back—or just never talked to me or anyone else we know—for _three years_?”

           Axel’s eyes bore into him, a cocktail of grief, bitterness, and hurt brimming in them.

           “I had to figure out stuff, come to grips with everything that happened.” Roxas sighed, upturning his palms in an explanatory sense. “Plus, it wouldn’t be a good idea for someone who got killed in a botched assassination to just pop up completely fine right after getting a buckshot to the chest.”

           Axel sighed, relenting.

           “You just decided to lay low, then? How’d you even survive that? They said most of your organs weren’t even possible to salvage.”

           Roxas folded his arms, frowning. “I mean, I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you everything I can.”

           “What, that your dads covered up that you survived and kept your “death” and funeral super ambiguous and hush-hush outside of friends and family? It’s not that surprising.”

           “No, not that.” He shook his head and leaned forward with his hands rested in his lap. “Promise me you’ll listen and not freak out.”

           “Promise...” Axel muttered, incredulous.

           “I _did_ die. I died the moment my heart exploded and other fragments shot into my spine. I’m definitely not alive right now.” Roxas said.

           Axel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So you’re a _ghost._ ”

           “Sort of. I can’t tell you all the details, but I guess the best way to put it is I’m basically a grim reaper. I come to the world of the living to take people about to die back with me.”

           Still baffled by the general situation, Axel stood up and paced around while processing it. He stopped to ask, “Are you—are you sure you’re not just a _tad_ bit delusional or something? I mean, being dead for a while’d probably do _something_.”

           Roxas shook his head again, replying, “Nah, Dads are ones, too. They just serve what’s basically Hell and I serve Limbo. Their process of getting back to the world of the living is faster. Uh, look, if I was out of my mind, I wouldn’t be able to do this--”

           Axel sighed, shaking his head and looked back at Roxas. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight before him.

           Roxas sat, clawed, inky black fingers tapping on his knee while he stared up at Axel with blank, faintly glowing white eyes. In fact, most of Roxas’ body below the neck was pure black by the looks of it. There was weak light emanating from where he was shot from under his black t-shirt.

           “Yeah,” Axel muttered weakly, “I don’t think you’d do that if you were just crazy. Oh, what the fuck?”

            Roxas sighed as Axel paced about in agitation.

           What a situation.

           Axel paused, eyes widening in panic, “Wait, so why _are_ you here, then?”

           “Don’t worry, you aren’t dying this week or anything. I just have the privileges to live up here while I wait for my target’s death date now. I figured I’d say hi.”

           “Oh, okay. Do you know when I _will_ die?” Axel asked and quirking a short eyebrow.

           “That’s, uh, confidential. As I said, though, you’re not dropping dead this week or something like that.”

           Axel sighed. He walked back over and plopped down next to Roxas.

           “We can talk about the whole grim reaper thing some more later.” Roxas murmured as he patted Axel’s shoulder. “Also, I’m kind of amazed you haven’t started crying yet. I kind of expected the waterworks the second I walked in! It’s not every day some dead person comes back.”

           “I don’t cry that easily!”

           “All three cats cuddled in your lap once and you teared up because you were so touched.”

           “Fair enough, but I was tipsy at the time. But, man, I just….” Axel ran his hand through his hair, frowning. “This whole thing’s just so weird. My brain’s just kinda short-circuiting at this point.”

           “Fair enough.”

           “I’ll probably start crying later, honestly.”

           “Probably.”

\---

           The warm beams of gold slid down their backs as they sat on the porch, facing the house. Axel leaned against the railing next to Roxas (in his “alive” form), who looked no different than how he did, and that unnerved him to a degree. Despite that small unease, it certainly didn’t outweigh his relief to see him again.

           “You talked to anyone else yet?” He asked.

           Roxas slowly shook his head, replying, “Only my family.”

           “Oh, so I’m a priority then.” Axel grinned.

           “Well, duh, but the others would…” Roxas sighed, “…they’d do better without seeing me again.”

           “Huh? Why do you think that? I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again too.”

           “I think it’d mess them up.”

           Roxas pulled his gaze from the deck to Axel. “You, though, you don’t really seem like you believed I was really dead if that makes sense. Dad told me you kept acting like you thought I’d come back. That’s why I’m here.”

           Axel shrugged. “It was just weird to get used to not seeing you around after all the intense grieving. Probably denial more than anything. Guess I was right in the end, though.”

           “Hey, maybe you’re a psychic.”

           A small smile returned to Axel’s face as he chuckled, “Maybe. Don’t think I’ll go changing careers anytime soon. I got a gig with your dad handling photography projects for tourism stuff and it pays the rent.”

           “Oh, nice. So you can live off being a freelance photographer now?”

           “For the most part. I’ll do little seasonal side-jobs too if they’re there so it’s not hand to mouth. But that aside,” Axel ruffled his hair, “It’s good to see you again.”

           “It’s good to be back.” Roxas hummed as he patted his thick cowlicked hair back into place.

           Axel sat on the small wobbly wooden bench pushed against the house, wanting to get out of the afternoon sun. Roxas still sat on the railing, the sun behind him making him glow as if ephemeral. He _was_ a ghost, Axel figured. Not heavenly in all technicality, but close enough.

           “Oh, wait, you aren’t going to see your boyfriend?”

           Roxas stiffened.

           “I think I’m going to let Xeha… get over me and move on.” He answered while playing with a string on his shirt.

           “ _Get over you_?” Axel scoffed, short eyebrows furrowing, “You’re not as forgettable as you think you are, Rox. People can get over exes…usually, but you don’t just _get over_ someone you were dating dying.”

            Roxas sighed again.

           “At least I wouldn’t.” Axel softly added.

           “Yeah, you’re too sentimental. But I just…I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t even know if it’s worth saving, honestly. There were a lot of incompatibilities that I only noticed after thinking about it later. We kind of aren’t that good for each other. I’ll just let him do his thing and hope he gets on fine. I think it’s the best choice for him and me.”

           Axel watched him wilt. Propping his chin in one of his hands, he said, “I don’t want to sound pushy or like a dick because I didn’t like him, but if you really thought it was that hopeless even if you didn’t die then do what you need to. Don’t cling to what’s not going to happen then be unhappy when it falls apart. That’s what ended up happening with me and Saïx.”

           “I guess.”

           “Also you’d be in-laws with Xemnas if you two got married, and that would _suck_. God, Christmas with him and Saïx along with their weirdass grandpa, could you imagine?”

           He got a weak laugh for that. Good enough.

           “That was one of the reasons. I don’t think they’d like me very much. Xeha was probably the only one there with a sense of humor, honestly. But I’m surprised you’re more curious about my love life than the fact that I’m physical proof the afterlife and supernatural exist.”

           “ _Weeell_ , a lot of strange things are out there as-is.” Axel slowly rose and stepped closer to him. “And I’m mostly just glad to see you again. I’ll think about ghosts later.”

           Roxas smiled and slid off the railing to pull him into a tight hug.

           “Same here. It’s definitely boring when you’re not around, dude.” He chuckled into his shoulder.

           “I can say the same thing. Glad to have you back, Rox.”


	2. Afterthought

           Roxas was unsure how long he was going to stay, but Axel insisted he stay as long as he wanted, wanting to catch up as much as possible. He relented; if there was someone to readapt to being alive around, it was Axel. It was good to be home.

           Not a whole lot changed in the house, just a few posters were swapped out, one of the chairs was moved to the other side of the room, one of the cabinets had a massive crack in it for some reason, some of the glow in the dark stars that were on the bedroom ceiling were gone (it looked like they fell off), and the shower curtain was now a white to black gradient instead of the blue stripes they usually stuck with. And Axel called _Roxas_ the emo one; the guy was making the bathroom start to reflect his blackened and cold heart... or something. He was mostly just an asshole, not so much cold. But Roxas would prefer if the bathroom reflected the status of his soul, not his ass.

           The latter was probably someone’s kink out there. He didn’t want to think about that bizarre exhibitionism.

           After a large extra cheese pizza that would kill a lactose intolerant person and random rambling on Axel’s part since reality was really hitting him now, they ended up sharing the bed, as per usual. It was a queen mattress they got a hold of for a decent price and didn’t really mind divvying it up between them, even though Roxas had a penchant for squirming in his sleep and Axel would steal all the covers if they shared them.

           This was one of those things Roxas never brought up to Xehanort Jr., because stating that he slept with his roomie every night was…misleading.

           Speaking of Xehanort Jr., Roxas was seriously getting a case of hindsight bias and wondering why he tried to preserve such an empty relationship which was destined to fail whether he was alive or not. _Trying to be high school sweethearts into adulthood until we were at the altar? Because Dad and Xaldin liked him?_ He asked himself. At this point, he wasn’t even sad they were officially broken up in his mind, because it just felt like he dropped something empty and meaningless and walked away.

           Two teenagers who worked early on but ended up having different social needs that were far too vastly apart. Roxas needed spontaneity, Xeha needed order. Roxas wanted freedom, Xeha wanted control.

           He was just amazed they were still a thing when he died. He rolled over and nudged Axel, who let out a tired but questioning grunt.

           “Was Xeha at my funeral?”

           Axel propped his chin on his pillow and uttered a quiet “…Yeah?”

           “What’d he do?”

           “Dunno, I was kinda busy being sad as balls, Rox.”

           Good point.

           “What’s with _that_ all of a sudden?” Axel asked, leaning on his elbow.

           A simple reply. “Thinking.”

           “Huh.”

           That was an indication that Axel was about to flop back down and fall asleep if there was nothing else to say.

           Roxas rolled back onto his back and asked with a sigh, “Was our relationship all that great?”

           “You and him? From where I saw it, he was pretty shit at knowing what affection was and how to give it. Don’t think you really noticed that because you didn’t exactly have the perfect models of romance raising you.”

           “I don’t think I’ve seen my dads kiss _ever_.”

           “My point exactly.”

           “Yeah. Their types of intimacy were kind of different and lowkey though, might have been from growing up when they couldn’t be out without immediately being in danger. Xaldin’s got some other quirks in general, too.”

           “Yeah. Guy looks like he’s a second away from annihilating you.”

           “Oh, he just doesn’t like you. Most of the time his expression is a mix of annoyed and neutral. I think a lot of it’s because he used to be in the English army _yeeears_ ago.”

           “Okay, well, thanks.” Axel snorted.

           “Don’t sweat it, I like you. I don’t think you hang out with _him_ in your spare time.” Roxas beamed over at him.

           Axel grinned back and flopped back on his pillow, thinking about how much he missed that smile.


	3. Reunion

           It was a week before. As usual in April once it got hot, the air conditioning in the house was on full blast. Roxas had no idea what appeal anyone else saw in freezing to death, but whatever. It seemed like people in big homes liked to keep their houses completely frigid; Roxas knew this because he grew up in one. Needless to say, he slept with a lot of blankets on his bed.

           “Hey, dad?” He asked sheepishly as he peeked into all the rooms around the house.

           “He’s at the office at the moment.” He heard a familiar voice call from the living room at the front of the house.

           “Xaldin!” _Other dad!_

           He sped into the room, beaming. “You’re still around!”

           Xaldin looked up from his laptop and his place on the leather loveseat, and leaned back.

           “Why wouldn’t I be?”

           Roxas folded his arms and grunted, “I don’t know. I mean, it’s been, like,”

           “Three years. I _do_ like your father, you know. I didn’t stay here because I only liked you and Naminé.” _Or the deal._

           “Well, you kind of didn’t stay in one place much, did you?”

           “The wanderlust of youth and existential discontent. Now I’m dead and have all the time in the world.”

           “Good point. And it _has_ been a while.” Roxas said, then perked up. “Did you know Dad’s a grim reaper kind of thing?”

           “Yes. I see you found out. He was the one who collected your soul?”

           “Yep. I guess he went to Hell when he died that one time he disappeared when I was, like, three…” Roxas shrugged.

           Xaldin nodded, recollecting that whole fiasco. “He did. That’s when we caught up again.”

           Roxas wanted to know more about this now that he didn't grimace at the concept of romance or sex or anything like that and he was in the know about the whole grim reaper thing, but he doubt he'd pry it from this man.

           “Oh yeah, you came around during that.” Roxas froze, eyes widening at Xaldin. “Wait, you said you’re dead. _You’re_ one too?”

           “Yes. I said I was dead already.”

           Roxas awkwardly shuffled closer.

           “…Neat.”

           “Where do you think I came from all of a sudden?” Xaldin asked, not looking up from what he was typing.

           “I don’t know… England? Catching up after years of not being around?”

           “That’s generally what happened, except we caught up when he died. That’s about it.”

           “Yeah, figured.”

           As prickly as ever.

           Roxas inched closer, nervously asking, “Is Naminé—”

           “She’s still alive.”

           Roxas sighed in relief.


	4. Oh God, Those Annoying Back-To-School Commercials Are On Again

           Another semester, another prayer-session that financial aid and loans would cover some textbooks too.

           Axel also prayed this physics teacher would have mercy and give everyone time to actually jot down at least half the notes on each Powerpoint presentation page.

           He expended some energy to glance up at the guy sitting next to him once the condensation on the desk from his breath got annoying.

           “High school’s a _left_ turn from the main street. You lost?”

           He got a glare. The guy was a sandy-blond, hair swept up into a very prominent cowlick, and had the baby face of the century.

           “I’m in college.”

_Well yeah, how else did you get here? Actually, I guess there’s those dual-enrollment programs, but I don’t think we have those here?_

           “I’ve never seen a junior as dainty as you, dude.” Axel said, a lopsided grin growing on his face, much to the blond’s chagrin.

           “That’s because I’m a freshman.”

           “Huh. Must have got some goodass entrance exam results, huh?”

           The blond sighed a “yeah” and sifted through the filled pages of his notebook to reach the blank ones, clearly indicating he was done with the little chat. Not very sociable.

           Axel watched him take a mechanical pencil apart and put it back together while they waited for the professor to organize her things. Kid looked like he was kind of an anxious person, given the gnawed-on nails and jiggling leg that was slightly shaking the table. A tiny 5’4” ball of anxiety.

           “What’s your major, anyway?” He asked.

           “Oh, undecided right now. I just want to get the core classes out of the way at the moment.”

           Axel nodded, scribbling in the corner of his page. “Fair enough. I’m doing stuff in the arts, mostly photography and graphic design. I’m a freelance photographer, but a degree would really help me out, y’know?”

           “Cool.”

           The tap of the professor’s flats resonated in the room as conversations ceased, and Axel leaned back while her introduction started. God, he hated physics.

\---

           “Lookin’ good there, blondie.” Axel chuckled as he stopped at the student center armchair the previously-mentioned guy was now huddled in, laptop on his lap as he typed furiously while some beaded (they looked like skulls) bracelet clicked and tapped against the plastic. The little taps and clicks were rhythmic; a flurry of them, then they’d slow down, then stop, then speed back up. He also had a thing for always wearing a hoodie. It wasn’t even that cold out but who knows, he could be sickly.

           Axel would’ve spoken to him more, but that class got busy immediately and everyone practically scrambled to leave when it was over. Back-to-back classes sucked, Axel learned not to take them when he could.

           The response to his quip was “This fucking paper.”

           “Yeah, I know. Who even makes you write essays in _physics_? Not even two weeks in, too. Also, you look like you could take a break before your skull splits in two and you make a janitor regret their life.”

           “I wish.”

            Axel leaned on the back of the chair, grinning down at him. “Oh _come on_ , uh--”

           “--Roxas.”

           “Okay. Come on Roxas, take a breather. We can get lunch or something because I’m hungry and you probably are too and I want to get to know you.”

           “Why do you think I’d do that?” Roxas’ eyebrows furrowed.

           “You look like you need some friends.”

           Roxas stared at his half-written and despair-inducing paper then up at Axel and let out a resigned sigh. _Just don’t try any shit._

           “Oh yeah, I’m Axel. I forgot to tell you that.”

           “Okay. Cool name, I guess.” Roxas shrugged as he closed his laptop and slid it into his bookbag.

           Said bookbag was a worn-out army green canvas bag by the look of it. There were probably quite a few pins amongst the faded and scribbled-out Sharpie or magic marker graffiti (that was now barely legible) judging by the small holes peppered over the flap. Maybe he fished it out of his closet after years of it being tucked away and realized what embarrassing juvenile stuff he scrawled onto it and scribbled everything out in a fit of panic so nobody would know what dumb crap he wrote on his bookbag in 7th grade.

           Or at least Axel figured it went down like that.

           Axel pushed open the student center door and stepped out, nodding, “I can say the same for yours. Never heard of any Roxases before.”

           “Yeah, it’s…unique. Are you from around here?”

           “Kind of. I’m from the other side of town. Why?”

           “You said you’ve never heard the name. I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but most people recognize me around here…and it kind of sucks.” Roxas hunched his shoulders sulkily.

           “ _Oooh_ , minor celebrity?”

           “No, politician’s son. A _gay_ politician’s son. The feedback can range from positive to reacting like I’ve been abused all my life.”

           Axel tucked his hands into his pockets, saying, “Oh, yeah, I can see how that’d suck for you. Seems pretty cool, though.”

           Roxas noted that this guy was in _skinny jeans_ and he could actually bend his legs in them. Axel was kind of a twig, but a weirdly…curvy twig. He had a lot of lean muscle, maybe; probably from all the hiking and climbing he had to do for photography projects. Still-- _skinny jeans_.

           “It’s—it’s okay. He’s not around a lot. Other dad is home more often because he can work from home most days of the week.”

           Axel lit up. “Oh, two dads! That’s even cooler.”

           “Why do you care so much about how my dads are gay?”

           “Because _I’m_ gay.”

           “Oh.” Roxas awkwardly adjusted his shoulder-strap and added, “I’m bi. I think.”

           “Sweet. You don’t meet many out queer people around here. What a nice little moment of solidarity.”

           Roxas rolled his shoulders, sighing, “Yeah. I know a few other people, but there’s not a lot.”

           “I’m sure there’s more, they just don’t really know it or they aren’t out. By the way, where do you wanna go?”

           “I don’t know. Are there any places you go to regularly?”

           “There’s a pretty nice hole-in-the-wall café about two blocks away. It’s kind of cramped, but the coffee’s good and they have a bay window you can sit at. They have food, too. Coffee on an empty stomach sucks.”

           Roxas just nodded.

           They avoided dying in the street via people who don’t know how to use their turn signals or that red lights mean ‘stop’ and ended up at a glass door and big window wedged between other businesses. Yeah, definitely a hole in the wall but an endearing hole in the wall nonetheless. They stepped inside and a good amount of the light from the outside was seemingly absorbed by the ancient forest green wallpaper and dark wood floor. Old, but aesthetically pleasing. Roxas imagined there wasn’t asbestos or anything and it was just a revitalization of how this building used to look back in the 1900’s or whenever it was built.

           Once they got their food, they sat on the tiny worn couch wedged between the counter and a small table. It was picky according to Roxas, who was wearing tan cargo shorts.

           Axel was eager to get the bay window seat, but he realized it was already taken by someone furiously texting someone and making a scary arrangement of faces and if he and Roxas tried to sit on it they’d basically end up in each other’s laps. He’d forego the bay window today.

           “You have any more classes today?” Axel asked before sipping his espresso.

           It was almost four in the afternoon, yes, and any sane person wouldn’t drink a highly caffeinated drink at that time, but he was a college student.

           Roxas slightly shook his head as he split his bagel in half. “Nope. I have a morning class and a break before the one we just had. The other ones are online.”

           “Oh, not bad. I have a few night classes. It kind of sucks because I bike home every day, but what can you do?”

           “I mean, you _could_ get a car.”

           “In this economy, Roxas?” Axel asked with dramatic incredulity.

           Roxas shrugged.

           “Or maybe a scooter? I don’t know.”

           Axel leaned back and toyed with the lid of his drink, sighing, “Eh, I’ll stick with a bike for now. You don’t have to charge it or pay for gas.”

           He perked up and turned to Roxas.

           “By the way, why’d you decide to go to a little state college instead of, like, an ivy league university or something? Seems like you’d have the means.”

           Pensively staring at his half-eaten bagel, Roxas replied, “It’s better for me to just start slow, I guess. If I want to go to one of those later, then sure, but for now it’s baby steps.”

           “That’s smart. I figured with the positions your dads are in it’d be go big or go home.”

           “Not really.” Roxas sipped his latte. “They grew up in pretty average homes, so, yeah. Were your parents or guardians or whatever really pushy with making you ultra-talented?”

           “Eh, a little. Mom was a serious harpy, dad let me do whatever. I was kind of a teenage delinquent, honestly because my friends raised me more than they did.” Axel replied, running his slender fingers along the cardboard sleeve on the cup.

           Roxas, not having much to say in response to that just said, “That sucks.”

           “Yeah, but it could’ve been worse. I don’t worry about it anymore.”

           “Why’s that? If I can ask.” _You’re prying a lot, anyway. Let’s even it out._

           “The minute I could move out I did and cut them all off, basically.” Axel chuckled dryly. “Life was hell for a while, but it was worth it. I, uh, wouldn’t recommend doing that if your parents don’t suck shit, though.”

           “I don’t plan to, don’t worry.” Roxas uttered.

           He _was_ tempted to run away when he was in high school, but it was mostly to escape the drama of having two dads who were in politics, not so much bad parenting.

           “Well, that’s good, then.” Axel nodded, taking a sip of his espresso and staring out the window at a dog being walked. “A lot of middle and upper-class people run their kids through the wringer so they’re perfect and aren’t nice about it. Relief to know you aren’t stuck playing seventy-three instruments and forced to learn twenty-five languages because they want you to be qualified.”

           “Yeah, no,” Roxas snorted at the sheer ridiculousness of that image, “I was allowed to take up whatever hobbies I wanted to as long as it was legal.”

           “What do you like to do, anyway? Other than skateboarding, it’s kind of hard to tell.”

           “Uh, well,” Roxas’ leg started jiggling again, “I like music, I guess.”

           Roxas wasn’t exactly sure how to vaguely state that he had a severe depressive episode and he stopped doing most of the things he liked to do, so he left that out.

           “Most people like music.” Axel pointed out.

           “Yeah, well, I like to sing and make music sometimes. I like most genres so I’m not really that picky. And I like baking and RPGs too, sometimes parkour and struggle. And I like, uh, other usual stuff.”

           “Ooh, me too for most of those. And photography, but you know that already. I haven’t tried parkour before, though. I’d love to try it out sometime. I might fall on my face or break my ass, but I wanna try.”

           “It’s pretty fun once you get a good handle on what to do. And if you get into it, falling on your face is kind of normal in the beginning. Just…fall on your face in places where you _won’t_ get ran over or get impaled on something.”

           “I’ll take note of that, thanks.” Axel grinned.

           At least he was getting Roxas out of his shell a little.

           Glancing up at the clock, Roxas asked, “When’s your next class?”

           “At five. You can go home after this, right?”

           “Yeah.” Roxas looked over at him, corners of his mouth cracking into a small amused smile, “I think I’ll walk back to campus with you then go home so one of us can call the police if we end up in a hit and run or something crossing the damn main street.”


	5. Why Do I Keep Making People Make Pancakes in My Fics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up angstier than intended but it's a loosening up fic where it's not the end of the world if something doesn't go perfectly and it still leads to the next chapter well enough, so hey.

           Axel had the tendency that if he clicked with a guy well enough, he’d inevitably fall for him to some degree. It happened with Saïx, but they ultimately broke up because they worked well as friends and not so much boyfriends. This repeated with others like Demyx and Zexion, and there was an inevitable fallout in a romantic sense due to a lack of reciprocation or they didn’t work as well on an intimate level. Sometimes they stayed good friends, other times it just died off.

           So, it was only expected that he would feel the same way about Roxas. He did, and he had to wonder if this fleeting feeling was brought on by it happening every time he was on good terms with any guy who liked guys because he was suddenly out and able to _actually_ date men or if it was actually legitimate.

           The usual with him, but he decided to just see how it went.

           This bothersome contemplation flew in and smacked him in the back of the head one day during spring break outside his apartment. He was sitting in the small courtyard between the buildings, Roxas next to him and going on about something—he was pretty sure it was about bananas and how they weren’t eating actual bananas but a relative, or something. Apparently, he learned that while online one day and was pretty shaken about how everything banana flavored he’d ever eaten were essentially a lie in a sense but also edible effigies of flavor paying homage to a diseased crop. Yeah, it was about the bananas.

           “Why are you so passionate about fruit?” Axel asked as he re-tied one of his shoes.

           “It’s just kind of surprising learning we’ve been living a lie.”

           “ _Bananas_ , Roxas.”

           “Cavendish.” Roxas corrected, leg jiggling and heel tapping the slightly crumbling concrete tile underfoot.

           “You nerd. This is the most riled up I’ve seen you about menial stuff.” Axel chuckled, sliding down the bench a little and stretching his legs. “Wait, no, there was the time you realized artificial vanilla flavoring comes from beaver ass.”

           “But isn’t that so _weird_?”

           “Yeah, I guess it’s extra weird for you because you like to bake. Shit, I think it’s gonna rain, look at them clouds.”

           Roxas looked up, sighing, “It’s supposed to storm later, isn’t it? So much for a great start to spring break.”

           Axel shrugged. “Well, introverts’ll love it. I don’t mind as long as the power stays on. It’s too damn hot and humid for the air conditioning to die.”

           Nodding, Roxas tucked a bent leg under the other.

           “What do you usually do on breaks?” He asked.

           “When I’m not doing photoshoots, projects, or the occasional party? I just stay at home these days. Weather can get pretty bad this time of year by the water, so I don’t want to be caught outside and get eaten by the ocean or potholes if I don’t have to. I also used to hang out with Saïx more, but he’s in veterinary school.”

           “No explanation needed for why he’s so busy, then.” Roxas snorted.

           “That Demyx guy, though, didn’t you hang out with him?” He asked.

           “Yeah, in high school, but he moved pretty far away to surf and stuff.”

           “Ah. People either hit the ground running out of high school and get out of here or never leave.”

           As casual and true of a statement as that was, it was vaguely unnerving.

           Axel folded his arms behind his head, sighing, “Not sure what side I’m on with that.”

           “Me neither.”

           A roll of thunder shook the ground and a few fat drops splatted on the concrete. With that, they sped to Axel’s apartment before they were soaked and the truth of how much hair product they used was exposed.

           After struggling with the doorknob, what a stubborn thing, they finally got in.

           “Ax, you really like posters, don’t you?” Roxas observed, inspecting the cramped apartment and noting how there was barely any of the paint on the walls visible between the array of movie, game, music, and scenic posters and photos.

           Axel kicked his shoes off onto the rug, replying, “They’re interesting and cheap. Summarizes your personality, too. Besides, beige walls are depressing. I’d rather look at a beach poster from the dollar store than _beige_.”

           “You’re right about that. JPEG’d to death and all.” Roxas nodded while he slipped his sneakers off.

           Axel shuffled over to the window and stared out at the sheets of rain pounding the roofs, balconies, and concrete below. It looked like it could get nasty.

           “You wanna spend the night or stay over? It looks like it’s gonna rain a while.”

           “If it’s no trouble.”

           “No trouble at all. It gets lonely over here with all the other young people gone for the week. It’s all middle-aged and old people for days complaining about one thing or another.”

           Roxas hung his jacket up on a chair and followed him over to the futon that doubled as the bed and couch by the look of it. He plopped down and tucked his knees to his chest, loosely resting his arms around them.

           Axel stretched then slouched into his seat, sighing while gazing out at the wall of rain.

           It was a comfortable silence between them for a few minutes, both of them off in their own thoughts.

           “What do you wanna do once you’re out of college?” Axel asked, chin rested in his palm but turning his head slightly to glance at Roxas.

           Roxas scoffed, a smile that was a mix of amusement and ‘seriously?’ present. “Really? _That_ question? Grandma, is that you?”

           Axel snickered and replied, voice whiny and shrill like a senile old woman, “Yes, dear, are you going to be a lawyer and find a girl and have 2.5 kids soon? You’re only so young. Why don’t you ever visit, I only have so long, you know! Soon I’ll be dead in the ground.”

           Roxas snorted, leaning on the arm of the futon closer to him.

           “God, what? Is that what grandmas actually act like?”

           “Pretty much. You don’t have any?”

           “Nope. Both the parents to my parents are completely cut off or dead.”

           “Huh, I guess there’s some solidarity here, then.” Axel frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is kind of depressing. You wanna be a good grandson and answer the question so we don’t spiral into some existential crises?”

           “Once you stop roleplaying my grandma.”

           “Gladly.”

           Roxas played with one of the extra-bouncy spikes of blond hair nervously.

           “Well, I honestly don’t know what I want to do. Singing? Cooking? Just working with my dads? I don’t know. Obviously, my current goal is to graduate, but after that? It’s a mystery. I don’t think just being alive is a good reason to, well, be alive.”

           “Mm, yeah, I get that. You can’t really go through college without questioning yourself and your plans at least a few times. Couple times I was wondering if I wanted to change to majoring in _science_.”

           “I can’t see it.” Roxas said, wrinkling his nose.

           “Yeah, no, me neither.”

           “It’s still pretty annoying when you just have no idea what your reason to live is.” Roxas’ face sank halfway into his knees, muttering, “This got depressing, sorry.”

           “The weather just kind of does that, huh? Don’t sweat it. You have plenty of time to figure it out.”

           Roxas gazed out the window, deep in thought. His eyes slipped to Axel, who resumed looking out the window.

           “You’re good to talk to.” Roxas sighed, voice soft, muffled, and a little embarrassed.

           Taken aback, Axel blinked and chuckled, “Yeah, when I actually stop talking and you can get a word in.”

           “I’m serious.” Was the quiet retort.

           The rain got heavier.

           “It was harder to come clean to the damn therapist than you.” Roxas continued. “Something about you, man.”

           “Probably helps you aren’t stuck in some stuffy office. Glad to help, though.” Axel reached over and ruffled his hair.

           Roxas let out a squawk and patted his hair back into place, a smile evident.

           “Before we fall into a pit of absolute sadness, let’s do something else.” Axel suggested.

           “Sounds good to me.” Roxas checked the time on his phone. “You want me to make dinner?”

           “If you wanna. I was planning on just eating some chips or something.”

           Roxas rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. He tugged Axel’s arm, saying, “You could use some nutrition and not be a starving artist, you know. You kind of don’t need to do that at all.”

_I’ll pay for your groceries if I have to._

           He headed to the kitchen side of the apartment, Axel in tow, and rummaged through the small pantry, frowning. He turned to him, asking, “What _do_ you have?”

           “Well…chips. And apples. And pancake mix. I haven’t gone shopping this week.”

           Oh yeah, he ate out a lot, didn’t he? Since he was often out all day, it made sense.

           “Well, pancakes, then. You have syrup?”

           “Yeah, somewhere in there. I’ll get some of the other stuff together while you get that ready. Pots and pans are in the cabinet next to the oven and silverware’s in the last drawer to the left.”

           Roxas nodded, paused, and looked down. By that point, his hand slid further down Axel’s wrist and was practically holding hands with him.

           Axel had nice hands; just a random observation. He also painted his nails black too, which was probably a bitch to maintain with all the adventuring he had to do.

           He let go and awkwardly turned around to turn on a burner and set the pan on it.

           “Jeez, Rox, I didn’t think you felt that way.” Axel chuckled, setting the syrup and milk on the counter.

           There was a tingling where Roxa’s slightly rough hand slipped over his. _Must be from skateboarding and parkouring._ he figured. No real reason why his hands would be so rough, otherwise. He did notice pale lines all over the bottom of Roxas' left arm where his wristband slide forward, though. He tried not to show any reaction.

           Roxas rolled his eyes and motioned him over to the mixing bowl on the counter.

           They went about putting in the ingredients, nothing really notable occurring other than Axel betting he could take a glass of syrup without feeling like complete and utter death since he wasn’t very into super sweet things.

           And damn, cheap maple syrup was sweet when in excess. He almost puked… and he lost the bet.

           He lifted his head from the sink, scowling at Roxas, who was a giggling mess on the brink of hysterics.

           “Christ, dude. Your face was priceless!” He grinned, leaning on the counter.

           “I mean, you wanna try?” Axel nudged him with the bottom of the shot glass then handed him one of the measuring cups.

           Especially after that depressing conversation they just had, seeing him chipper again was nice.

           “I’ve literally downed a mug full of Pixie Stix powder before.” Roxas proclaimed proudly, putting his free hand on his hip.

           Making an array of faces in succession as he processed that information, Axel said, “…Now that’s just fuckin’ weird.”

           “High school was wild. I was thirty bucks richer after that, though.”

           “What other stuff did you eat if you could stand that shit?”

           “That was probably the craziest thing I put in my mouth.” Roxas chuckled, “I don’t put much in my mouth that’s not food.”

           “Good on you. Don’t be like Demyx, who just chews on whatever he’s holding when he zones out.”

           “Eh, I nibble on straws, but definitely not _everything_.” Roxas slowed his mixing, uttering, “I can only imagine what he does to dicks.”

           “He’s a nibbler, probably.”

_Who zones out while sucking dick, though?_

           “I mean, some people are into that.”

           “I know I’m not.”

           “Yeah, me neither.”

           A chirpy, buzzy tone came from Roxas’ pocket, prompting him to pull his phone out hurriedly and unlock it.

           “Who’s that?” Axel asked.

           “Boyfriend.” Roxas murmured as he typed out something.

           Ah.

            _“Oh-ho_ , no wonder you got a little giddy. Axel beamed as he lightly elbowed him. “That’s adorable. Who is it?”

           Roxas slowly resumed getting the batter to the stove, face a little pink.

           “I don’t know if you know him, actually. Wait, Saïx is dating Xemnas, right? Xeha’s his little brother. We’ve been a thing since tenth grade.”

           “Oh, yeah, him? Damn, and you guys have lasted a while.”

           Axel frowned and thoughtfully said, “I wouldn’t have imagined you and him, of all people…”

           “It’s an opposites-attract kind of thing.”

           “Fair. It’s just that entire family is weird with affection and whatever. Xemnas works well with Saïx because they don’t really like getting super sappy or romantic. You kind of act like an over-affectionate excitable kitten sometimes, so I really didn’t see that coming.”

_Excitable kitten? Really? I don’t think I get that hype…_

           Roxas wilted ever so slightly, mumbling, “Yeah, it’s pretty easy to tell sometimes. I’m just hoping I can get him out of his shell a little bit. It’d be good for him to get away from those joykills.”

           “That’s _probably_ possible to do. Good luck with that.” Axel chuckled as he grabbed a spatula.

 

           Good luck. Axel said that a lot and judging by how weird that family was, Roxas would need the degree of luck to win the lottery or something to make that work.

           Man, every conversation was going to go downhill today, wasn’t it? Damn the weather.

            “I don’t want to be that guy ripping on your boyfriend because I personally don’t like him, but you can definitely find someone way better than him. He acts like holding your hand is a chore, sometimes.” He’d say.

           Roxas would either concede if he didn’t have the energy or would retort that “He has a lot of issues growing up the way he did. I want to help him get better.”

           ‘You might not be the thing that helps him,’ Axel would want to argue, but he’d just shrug and say, “Good luck, then.”

           By then, that was more or less his passive aggressive catchphrase.

           Roxas was too stubborn to accept it, most of the time. He just had a lot of weighing on him from his own childhood, and he wanted to help those like him. He dealt with his temper by turning it into righteous fury at the less-than-ideal upbringings and situations of others. He seemed like he was given a pretty gifted and interesting life, himself, but for some people that just didn’t work out for them no matter the privileges they were born into.

           And as it seemed, nothing really worked out for Roxas.

           Except the pancakes, those were really good and playing Mario Kart was fun, but seriously.

           Goddamn that depressing weather.


	6. Baggage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a brief but pretty specific mention of a suicide attempt, just warning you.

           “There was a lot of pressure growing up.” Roxas murmured as he stared up at the clouds catching the last rays of sunlight.

           “Yeah, being a politician’s son is probably pretty tiring, isn’t it?” Axel asked as he stretched out on the roof next to him, soaking up the heat from the shingles.

           “It’s not just that, it was trying not to enforce stigmas. I have two dads in an interracial relationship, one is mixed-race too, both are dealing with politics, business, law, government, and, well, you know how some people think. If they see how much of a wreck one of the kids is they’re going to use them as an example of how kids raised by gay men turn out and try to use it as propaganda.”

           Axel had to admit that yeah, he heard about that shit all the time when he was younger. He didn’t know any of them by name, but he heard about it within the town gossip. It wasn’t exactly peaches and cream to be under constant scrutiny like that, especially when compared to the angel of a child Naminé was.

           “It’s all I ever heard in school, you know.” Roxas continued with a sigh. “Somehow their sexuality played more of a role in me internalizing everything than their personalities in the eyes of everyone else. I had behavioral issues since I was little but it wasn’t because Dad and Xaldin were together, it was because their forms of affection and sympathy weren’t hands-on and forward enough for a kid my age to get. I’m not calling them bad parents, because they aren’t, but it’s an uphill struggle to deal with the fact that they never even caught on that I was depressed until they found me in the bathtub with a razor in my hand.”

           God, he wished they had something besides diet Mt. Dew. He could do without diet Mt. Dew and crippling depression. He took a sip of his soda and resumed, eyebrows furrowed.

           “I mean, _you_ didn’t know me at the time, I was only about fourteen, but I felt like shit for years and I still do because I was just a massive tarnish on my dads’ reputations. I mean, seriously, the teen who was raised by two guys and had issues all his life suddenly tries to off himself? Someone definitely used that in their agenda. People were criticizing us to Hell and back because my dads weren’t visibly caring enough to me and Naminé while praising straight men for simply being in their kids’ lives and talking to their wives after work.”

           “That’s so fucking stupid, honestly.” Axel grunted.

           “I know. And it still keeps me up, all that guilt that my little suicidal fiasco ended up in the papers and was the gossip I had to return to school to. I don’t think the therapy or meds really did much besides make me make more serotonin and realize why I lashed out so much as a kid. The way they talk about it makes you think they can fix you.”

           Roxas lifted his arm and stared down the pale lines scattered across it.

           “I don’t think I’m really that fixable, am I?”

           Axel didn’t come from a good home at all; histrionic or narcissistic parents (he couldn’t tell because he didn’t feel like delving into their psyches more than he had to), getting smacked around, and verbal abuse were commonplace all his life but he somehow turned out better than Roxas did--probably. See, he had support from Saïx and other friends during his childhood and into college when he cut his family off and he could brush small things off, but he had a hunch Roxas didn’t have much of that. Over the years Axel built up armor to deflect everything but so much that happened to Roxas kept twisting the knife back into old, sore wounds and insecurities. Roxas ended up jaded. Axel constantly felt compelled to protect him.

           “Well,” Axel sat up, “people can’t be fixed all the way, but we can pull ourselves back together, right? Sometimes we just need help from others to push the pieces back into place, too.”

           Roxas smiled. He asked, “You wanna help push some pieces back into place, then? Pretty obvious I’m not doing so hot by myself.”

           “What are friends for?” Axel reached over and ruffled his hair. “You got a lot ahead of you, and I wanna see you years from now in a way better place than you are now. And that includes having a diet that doesn’t consist on cereal and greek yogurt cups.”

           “Well hopefully I won’t still be in college five years from now.” _I’m ready for no more math classes!_

           “Yeah, me too. That’d _suck_. Now, do you wanna get down before it gets too dark out? Mosquitos are gonna eat us alive.”

           Roxas nodded and scooted down until he could hang then drop onto his balcony. Getting up there involved standing on the railings and jumping, but luckily getting down was a little more straightforward.

           “Be careful so you don’t aim too far or go too fast and fall and break your neck. I’d be sad as hell.”

           Axel barely had to dangle once hanging, as he was practically just standing on his toes. Damn him and his tallness.

           “Are you just going to spend the night?” Roxas asked, shuffling over to his door and sliding it open.

           “Yeah, sure. The roads can get pretty dangerous, especially if you’re walking or biking like I do.”

           “Good choice. I’d prefer it if you stole half the bed or the couch instead of being smeared across the road. Plus you can stick around for breakfast, we got a new waffle-iron this weekend because the other one’s hinges broke.”

           “Sounds good but how do you break a waffle-iron’s hinges?”

           Axel had the image of somebody getting annoyed with it or it got gummed up and they pried it open with their bare hands, but he doubted that actually happened.

           “It was a really old one. It was pretty nice but y’know, everything gets old and breaks.”

\---

           “Sorry for getting depressing and all that, by the way. I don’t usually hang out with such a good listener.”

           Axel perked up from his half-asleep stupor in the beanbag on the floor.

           “No problem, I’d be kind of a shitty friend if I didn’t try to help or just listen.”

           He got a warm hum in response, and Roxas turned to gaze over at him, adding, “You can talk about your problems, too. It’d be kind of dumb if I was the only one who got to vent.”

           “I know, I just don’t have to. You need the support more than I do.”

           “Well, if something goes to shit and you want to, I’m open.” Roxas lifted his head from his triad of pillows (one was a yellow star, another was a blue square one, and the other was a generic pillow).

           “Also, do you want to sleep in the bed? That looks uncomfortable.”

           Pulling himself from the Axel-shaped dent, Axel nodded and shuffled to it, mumbling, “Hm, sure.”

           He slipped into bed and rested his head on the star-shaped pillow. Roxas had a _lot_ of blankets, and with the air conditioning the way it was, he couldn’t blame him.

           Damn, Axel was a human space heater. If it wouldn’t potentially make it weird, Roxas would stick closer to him.

           Still, Roxas rolled onto his side and scooted closer to the wall for the sake of room. It wasn’t a necessity they squish together like they were trying to survive a night in the arctic (even though the damn air felt like it). He slid further under the covers until they were at his chin and closed his eyes.

           The only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight slipping through the cracks of the blinds, silvery-blue bars swept across the floor and bed.

           Axel leaned in a little, partially because the tag on the pillow kept rubbing on his neck, “Hey.”

           “Hmm?”

           He had no idea what he wanted to say or do, actually. He wasn't prepared for this. Once they locked eyes he completely blanked out. He had no idea how to start the conversation he was brainstorming, and he didn't want to ruin anything happening here and in the future just because he wanted to state something he wasn't even sure was true. Attachments to any form of chemistry be damned.

           “Do you—do you think your dads are gonna be pissed we’re sharing a bed?” He finally sputtered.

           “No?”

           Feeling the red fly up to his cheeks in sheer embarrassment, he rolled over while uttering an “Okay.”


End file.
